Graves' place of honor well-deserved

Feb. 3, 2009

Written by

Journal News columnist

NEW YORK - It was a game day, in some NHL city, outside of some hotel. A kid came up to Adam Graves and asked for two autographs, one for himself, one for his brother.

"Where's your brother?" Graves asked. The kid explained the brother was in a hospital. Graves asked for the brother's name, personalized the autograph ... and then visited the brother in the hospital. On a game day.

During the 1994-95 lockout - during the lockout! - Graves moved the Rangers' annual Toys for Tots drive to a city restaurant, and for years he brought his teammates with him to trade autographs and photographs for unwrapped toys. The drives would be scheduled from 2-4 p.m., and the lines would go around the block, and at 7 p.m., Graves would still be there signing.

A local kid named Nick Springer lost his arms and legs to a freak virus. Graves heard about it, of course visited Springer, started up a relationship, and remains a friend to date. Springer, a gold-medal-winning Paralympic rugby player, says the relationship isn't one of charity, that he and Graves talk athlete-to-athlete.

When the Rangers won the Stanley Cup, Graves dedicated the victory to Ceil Saidel, a longtime season-ticket holder who had been slain in her apartment building months before the championship.

This is the kind of guy we're talking about. This is just a small sampling of the types of things Graves did, and still does - we might add without ever wanting a smidge of publicity.

That's why tonight's ceremony, where Graves' No. 9 goes to the Garden ceiling, is appropriately billed as "Heart of a Ranger." It is unique in that Graves is being honored not only for being a champion and a shockingly unlikely record-breaking 52-goal scorer during the Cup year of '94, but for the man he is.

This is my opinion, and others will agree. Graves is the nicest, most humble, most giving person I've ever met. Not in sports. Anywhere.

"You can't really put it into words," Brian Leetch said. "So many little things pile up that define a person's character or personality. That's even more so for Adam because of how many little things he does on a consistent basis, out of the genuineness of his person, of his character. He does that because he listens and he cares and he sees an area where he can help. There's lots of people who listen and might be able to talk and give advice, but he's actually someone who does something about it and goes out and makes a difference by his actions, as well as being a friend and being there for support.

"It was a special thing to watch. You shake your head because it's not easy. I know his dad and mom gave him that foundation, and he had to have that personality to carry that out. And he's still doing it to this day."

Leetch hit it on the head. It started in North York, Ontario, just outside Toronto. Lynda and Henry Graves had three children, Adam and his two older sisters, and they adopted a fourth, a younger brother, Mark. Oh, and they took in more than 40 foster children from the time Adam was in kindergarten. Lynda Graves' parents had done the same, running an emergency home for foster children.

These were kids who were abandoned, or put into care, or taken away from their parents because of abuse, then later kids who were institutionalized. Each one was treated as a brother or a sister. Lynda was asked how it was having maybe 10 kids in the house at once, and she laughed that it was more than 10, because of all the kids' friends, in the driveway, or on the backyard rink, shooting pucks at Henry, heck, even at Lynda in goal sometimes. That spells the story of Graves' roots.

"I don't think it hurt, because it teaches them to share, and the understanding," Lynda said. "My kids were involved in all the foster kids we had. It was kind of a thing where, before we took them in, it was not a vote but we'd talk about it, what the kid was like. We had input from (our) kids, too. It has to be a united thing to work with these kids, and they were treated like my own kids. There was no difference in rules or chores or whatever. They were foster brothers and sisters, but they were basically brothers and sisters.

"All children that you get, it would be the same as your kids in a loving, well-adjusted home."

Adam told another story, of how Henry - a Toronto police officer - was a volunteer hockey ref. When the number of kids declined and games began to get canceled, Henry went out and got a bunch of spare equipment. He'd put Adam and others barely old enough to stand up on skates on the ice, just so there would be enough players for the game to go on. Graves said there were entire seasons where he wouldn't touch a puck.

"It was no different with our family and even our extended family, regardless of how long anyone was going to be staying with us," Graves said the other day. "And, quite honestly, it was just the way it was. ... Our house was where everyone hung out and spent a lot of time and felt at home. My mom and dad always had an open-door policy. But it wasn't anything out of the ordinary."

So when Adam and his wife, Violet, have to make a decision, they go back to what his parents would have done.

"The principles and ideals are the same," Graves said.

They say you reap what you sow, or you get back what you give, and Graves has had a couple of occasions where he's needed the shoulders of others. He and Violet lost one of their infant twin sons during his playing career, and his idol and best friend, Henry, died in 2000. And both of those times, armies of hugs came back.

"Without question," Graves said. "And that's what life is all about. Certainly when it comes to times like that, I did, and I most certainly feel like I still have an extended family, and that goes well beyond your own home.

"When I'm at the Garden, I feel I'm at home. When I'm at these different events, I'm at home. And a lot of people I've known for a lot of years that I don't know by name, some of the people I've met over the years have taught me lessons about courage and being courageous. Their strength and what they represent is something that you just admire."

Tonight, a lot of people get to say "Thank you" to the Heart of a Ranger.